Un Mot, Un Geste
by megHan5
Summary: Phantom Movie fic. Raoul first person p.o.v from Point of No Return until the end of the movie. R & R.
1. The Point of No Return

Well, if any of you have read my stories before, I am deeply sorry for not finishing any of them. I'm terrible like that. I have adored this musical since I can remember (being that my dad sang it to me when I was an infant) and I love the movie tons. So, came this vignette. I wanted to know what Raoul was thinking in that moment that this scene was occurring. It's right during "Point of No Return" Thanks.

Wet, soft flakes of pure snow swirled outside; that I knew well, simply put. At least, that is what I thought that I knew. As fire, crimson and orange raged in front of me, it was difficult to bring my mind upon much else. All I could see was her, and all that I could feel in the over stimulating surrounds was the blood-pumping life force in my chest attempting to escape from its protective cage.

This is too close. Too dangerous. Too risky. Too hair-raising. And a fact even more terrifying than my awareness of the situation, was the fact that she had been aware hours before. She had been all too aware of the danger awaiting her and yet I, brave man that I am, consoled her and convinced her frightened form that my point of view was the correct one. And now, as the moments grew shorter and the anxiety felt as tangible as the cloth beneath my fingertips…I realized that she was right. Christine was right and if the armed men in this theatre did not act quickly, it may be too late. Granted, nothing had yet happened that should raise my suspicion to the level on which it now rested. Nothing had gone wrong. There had been no mysterious voices from above, no missing singers and no physical, real danger; but I knew there would be.

Colors and fire flashing before my eyes in a whirl of dance and song bled slowly into soft swirls, and my mind was no longer in box five of the Opera Populaire, watching fate and fortune slowly unravel. In my mind I could hear the sound of slapping, lazy waters and Christine's tears of unspoken prayers. She rocked fervently forward and backward with the same strange, unearthly movements of a lone ship on midnight waters and the fear in her half-lidded eyes could be seen from where I stood. I needed not to ask what uncertainties haunted her. The stiff click of my shoes could be heard above the deafening silence in the chapel as the soft, sorrowful form turned and rose to me.

"Raoul, I'm frightened." I could hear her speak softly and shakily, the words barely echoing past dark stone walls. "Don't make me do this. Don't make me go through this ordeal by fire." My mind ran in silent circles as I tried poorly to encourage some uplifting, courage-inspiring words. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to fix the broken pieces of her fragile world. I wanted to be eloquent; to be the protecting man that I knew she needed. Yet, despite all of this, no words appeared. Though I knew what I had come to solidify between us and I held her tightly in my arms, I knew that I could not say anything. Christine's chest rose and fell tensely, stressed with the energy of speaking strained trepidations.

"…be there singing songs in my head. He'll always be there singing songs in my head." With unconscious movement, I saw that we had come to be sitting new to the large piece of stained glass; one of the few considerable sources of light in the tiny chapel. Both of us had moved towards the comforting light unknowingly, somehow hoping that it would bring us out of the ink black darkness of the situation.

"You said yourself, he was nothing but a man. Yet while he lives, he will haunt us till we're dead." Tears welled up in her eyes and what little confidence remained in me of the certainty of my scheme was crushed by small drops of salty water. I knew what I was doing to her. Her loyalties and fears were fighting desperately against each other with no indication of who the victor would become. The agony that tormented her tender heart and spirit poured out unrestricted in the words that she spoke.

"Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Can I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought. He murders all that's good. I know I can't refuse. And yet…" At that moment I felt the pieces of the world peel away in tiny fractures of feeling. Pain. Confusion. Yearning. Hope. Fear. Conflict. Every nerve felt raw as I realized that I was the reason for her pain. It could have been forcibly argued that I was not the sole benefactor of the agony that Christine was experiencing; but it would have been to no avail. In that space of time, nothing else could be seen by the vision of my soul. Nothing else could even compare. Though I feel it was only a fraction of a second before her words continued to flow, I was aware something within me fracturing and I knew that there would now be an undeniable difference.

"I wish I could. Oh God if I agree, what horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's Opera." In the desperate idea of comfort that fought to be free of me, words dripped form my mouth and in that space we both grasped desperately at an eluding peace.

"Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care. But every hope and every prayer rests on you now." She fell into my arms and on her delicate features I could see the burden which she now alone carried.

Only hours before I had held her in my arms. Only hours. Now, she was on the stage in front of me, yet leaps and bounds from safety and freedom. The gendarme standing tense behind me moved slightly, causing the floor of the sinister box to creak and making my hair to stand on end. I sickened me to think that the safety of the woman I loved now depended on soldiers whose motives, beliefs and skill I could hardly know or trust.

Christine's melodious voice did little to soothe my nerves or soften the tense knots in my shoulders; I could have almost sworn that the opposite effect was achieved. I nodded in a reaffirming way at her, despite my actual misgivings when an unsure glance was directed towards me. A new voice filled the stage and the sensation of ice-water flowing through my veins met with my view of the man now singing. Christine tentatively turned her head to meet the figure of the man as he slowly brought one finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. My heart beat came faster at the uncertainly which walked hand in hand with the newcomer's appearance. In confusion and fear I watched my fiancée's eyes close, seemingly in an expression of pleasure or pain. A song: "The Point of No Return", coursed through the theatre and brought with it an unidentifiable aggression and tenseness. Christine's body pulled close to the man's as his hand rose to her neck and slid down a thin arm. In my mind's eye, I saw every fear realized as recognition flooded me in the silent glances of both Christine and the Phantom. Now alert and aware of the present danger, I cast a knowing glance to the gendarme behind me and put a calming hand towards Andre and Firmin.

The two forms of all that I held dear and all that I held corrupt rose towards a bridge suspended high above a pit of flames, unknowingly I rose with them. Every muscle in my body screamed to be set free from the restriction that I placed upon them. Any ounce of sane energy that I had remaining within me was being utilized to prevent my own leaping onto stage and alerting the Phantom. Tendon, muscles, bones and blood stood cold as her lithe form became encircled in his arms. His. The man who had near to stolen her numerous times before and was corrupting her mind even still. His arms were wrapped around her warmly and his hands ran over her body. His. Tears came to my eyes as I saw that even worse, Christine did not resist. Breathing came shallow and difficult to my lungs, if I even noticed what my body was screaming for. I was only aware of emotions, color, and a midnight-black mask that floated above her head. Christine's form became softer and her head more limp as I saw it fall to the side, resting comfortably in his hands.

Moments shattered suddenly when the softly sung words leaving his mouth reached my ears.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Leave me, save me from my solitude." A dark, burning feeling rose inside of me as an emotion beyond fear, jealousy or pain grew in my heart and the tears welled further in front of my eyes. He was singing the song. Our song. My promise to Christine of love, safety, hope and passion. Our song. And she was quickly giving in to it. Every though, feeling and emotion in my body threatened to explode out of my mere mortal form and a look of unmasked disgust swept across my face. I knew then that Christine's fears were valid. She had known that, had she been confronted with him again, she would melt under the flame of the Phantom's passion. She had known and I had quieted her. Now I could do nothing but stand helpless and watch my love's demise unfold.

"Say you'll want me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too." I could not see the expression which was resting upon her face at that exact moment, and somewhere in me a dying flicker hoped that she had not given up. When her soft, pale hand reached up to rest upon his face, I felt completely sick.

"Christine, that's all I ask of…" As each part of my body ran cold, I watched her every movement with hollow awareness. Her hand moved quicker than I could almost distinguish through my haze of tears and a gasp arose from the audience. The hand that had only a moment ago shown tenderness and love towards the menace now disrobed him from one of the two things that had ever brought him comfort; the other was the source of his humiliation. For one swift moment I gazed upon the distorted face of all that had tormented the both of us for far too long. The next, my muscles jerked in reaction and I was out of box five and moving as quickly as I could towards the stage. All that could be heard in my ears was the roar of blood and an alarmed crowd.

With all the fierce instinct of a hunting animal, I ran back into the box, for a reason unknown to my own thought processes. As my eyes franticly focused, I saw Christine and my worst nightmare: the Phantom had taken her.

Any feedback, suggestions or comments would be amazing. Thank you so much for reading and hopefully enjoying.


	2. All I Ask of You

Alright, I didn't put a disclaimer on the last one cause I was bad. So here it goes.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of the Phantom, Raoul, Christine or any of the others. They belong to Gaston Leroux and also to Mr. Andrew Lloyd Webber (well, the songs anyway) So not mine, I only write through the patience, ignorance and benevolence of the above.

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews. They were absolutely unexpected, although a blessing, and the feedback was encouraging. Sorry that I haven't written a bit sooner, but I've been in tech week and the first three opening nights of my show, so it has been a bit difficult. Anyway, I'm here now and so are you so thanks very much and enjoy.

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**S**tatic and light filled my thoughts and nothing comprehensible could be heard coming from my mouth at that moment. Before I could fully grasp what was occurring around me, Christine had vanished and a deafening rumble could be heard. For one sparse moment I clung to the thought that the world would now collapse in on itself if she were forever with him and the clamor surrounding me must be a result of such a transaction. However, as light, voices, dreams and fears came tumbling down upon my eyes and mind, I was forcibly brought back into the Opera Populaire and the newest disaster its resident demon had brought forth. Panic and an explosion of feelings overtook the audience as fires immediately broke out among boxes only moments ago occupied by the elite of France. The feeling of broken glass entered my entire body through intense heat, scalding light and in immeasurable thought of deep loss. The Opera's prize chandelier, a symbol of grandeur, vibrancy and joy, catapulted itself towards the stage in a final gesture of the Phantom's vehemence.

Options narrowed in my mind as I saw a clear path to the main floor of the Opera and adrenaline alone dropped my body down from the delicate golden box. Outside stimulus seared every nerve as I could intensely feel the burning of my hands on the curtain rope, a sharp impact at my ankles and a sensation of freefall. As all of these assailed me, I could sense them so acutely that an analgesic effect was produced and nothing seemed real. I could not feel anything but panic, if that one word could even begin to encompass what was actually coursing through my body. Every fiber in me wished to go in opposite directions concomitantly, yet flesh was the only thing restraining such a movement. Figures rushed past me, both of smoke and form, not holding any more posture in my mind than one solitary crystal on the doomed chandelier. Memories, both antiquated and fresh solidified into a sharp, paralyzing fear for the one woman that could coerce me into so willing a hero.

I moved with a wild slackness reminiscent of only such unrestrained emotion as Mac Beth or Romeo could have possessed. Spiral stairs caught my vision and drew the eye upwards towards the towering warrens of the tiered Opera Populaire. Costumes, masks, paints and metal fabricated the guise which hid the dark underbelly of an intricately sinister theatre. They gave one the feeling of the absurd and capricious, and only months ago had gone unnoticed by both Christine and myself in our lofty grasp to ascend above the webs of deceit and entanglement which held her so tightly.

The cold remembrance of snow swirling around an icy red cloak filled my brain as I stumbled blindly towards the my last hope of recovering Christine. In the echoes of my mind, I could still hear the trepidation in her voice and see her shaking form standing frozen and alone on a rooftop in Paris. This rooftop. I had done my best to reach out to her amidst my own confusion and she let the words from my mouth fall to the ground like the swirling flakes of snow.

"Christine, Christine." I had meant to comfort her with what small reassurance I could muster, but her spoken name seemed to bring even further shudders of sightless panic. Her head turned delicately as dark eyes sought for something that was unseen to me. As much as I could not begin to understand what was plaguing her so deeply, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her shaking form. Some resolution needed to be found among the dark shapes of the Opera House and its tantalizing draw. There had to be some way out.

Silently I led Christine closer to the comforting light of the roof's glass domes, never once letting my eyes leave hers or her hand slip from mine.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears. I'm here. Nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you." Every word that left me was said with all possible truth. I did not know what had happened to her in the dark lair of this Phantom. Part of me questioned whether I truthfully wanted to partake in that knowledge or not. I did not know of what she had been subjected to or what had been asked of her. I did know, however, that a new fragility and fear had arisen that I had never seen before. I could not be aware of what he had asked of her. What I could do, though, was to ask less and infinitely more in a space of only words.

"Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I'm here. With you, beside you. To guard you and to guide you." Something began to become unburdened inside of me as her eyes lifted and a soft light shone in them again. A voice that had only moments ago been laden with the weight of a world was slowly becoming free and pure again.

"Say you'll love me every waking moment. Turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you'll need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you."

"Let me be your shelter, let me be your light. You're safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you." When feelings run so deep, promises can only be matched with promises.

"All I want is freedom. A world with no more night." Her soft footsteps crushed the delicate snow as she turned from me and walked forwards; the show of a clandestine pain that I could not, and perhaps would never, know. Every movement of Christine's burdened body exemplified the words drifting wispily from her lips. She longed for the freedom that I hoped I could honestly offer. "And you, always beside me. To hold me and to hide me." A feeling of joy began to rise in me as her words ran concurrently with my own. I grasped her cold hands in my own as I spoke. I could no more easily hide the emotions in my voice than I could conceal one of the grand statues surrounding us with only the palm of my hand. The unrestrained joy that exuded from me felt as if it would cover every rooftop in Paris.

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you'll need me with you here, beside you." I turned Christine's back into me and let her gaze out upon all of the city, knowing that she would see all that I knew I felt. "Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you." She needed to comprehend that whatever weight had been placed upon her by the burdens of her Phantom, anything that I could ask of her would not laden her further.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you." Despite the darkness and heaviness that fought to pervade us, a new hope was growing within me that the worst had passed.

"Share each day with me, each night, each morning."

"Say you love me."

"You know I do."

"Love me, that's all I ask of you."

All that I had known of good and evil in heaven and earth melted away as nothing seemed to exist but the two of us. The blackness surrounding her had been lifted for a brief moment in time and we were free to offer everything and ask for nothing but everything else that could be given. We were free. And for a brief flash of time, nothing could tie us to the earth and the wretchedness which permeates it. We were in love. And we let all of Paris see. I knew that I wanted to hold her like this, with all of Paris at our feet, and my arms safely protecting her for as long as we both would live out this life.

"Anywhere you go, let me go to. Love me, that's all I ask of you."

The feeling of frigid snow and crisp air was suddenly attacked by heat and force as a panicked body hit mine and sent me reeling slightly backwards. I had promised that anywhere she went, I would go too. And now I had to follow.

The burning in my limbs increased as I ran further and further into the towering inferno that had once been the Opera Populaire. Madame Giry was the only remaining hope that I could grasp onto, as mysterious as she was. I had promised Christine and I had to find her before it was too late.

"Where did her take her!" I quickly came up behind the slender woman and spun her around with a free arm. It seemed to me at that moment that she too understood the importance of speed, as neither of us ceased our frantic movements.

"Come with me monsieur, I will take you to him. But remember, keep your hand at the level of your eyes." Meg briefly tried to follow, but turned to block the running crowd as an obedient child.

"Come with me monsieur." As I ran towards the bleak unknown, I could not have even comprehended what would await me. A dull fear coursed in my head as bright shapes and people turned into dark shadows and forms. I would find her. No matter the personal consequences.

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Well, that was a blast to write, actually. Hope it was enjoyed and believe it or not, reviews are kind of crucial to my desire to continue this. Being as it is now late at night and I am using up sleep time, I need to be assured that people are actually going to read this. Please comment negative and positive. Love ya Steph and thanks for all the ping-ponging. 


	3. Level of Your Eyes

A/N: Well, here we go again. Lovely. Thanks so much for all of the reviews, they have truly amazed me! And thank you Daft Penguin, you are entitled to your opinion, that's what makes this country so awesome to live in: you can say whatever you wish. And honestly, I do appreciate that you did give your true feelings, thanks for the honesty. Also, the Phantom is actually my favorite over Raoul, but I like to do the more obscure viewpoint. (hope I'm not coming off too callous). Thanks also to everyone else too and "The Phantom of the Opera": I _did _appreciate your review, it made me smile, thanks! Hope this is enjoyed and meets expectations, if not, feel free to tell me where it fell short.

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**A** chill, dank wind blew into my face and body as I swiftly followed Madame Giry down a snaking trail of stone steps. I could not help but think that as we wound further and further downward I would have lost my thoughts completely had they not had a sole objective. Events had tumbled into an order that I never would have wished or entertained, even in nightmares. Whatever was now to unfold out of that sick man's mind was of my concern and was the result of my own folly. A small flickering glow emanated from the single oil lamp which Madame Giry's pale hand grasped. In its struggle to add light to the dismal corridor, it exposed the decomposed flutter of several old, deteriorating posters. It was clear the shows had been long since performed and forgotten by all but the Phantom and perhaps the aged ballet mistress herself; now they swung idly in a muted, pitiful state. Madame Giry's voice reached my ears in a tone of strained control and the strange sound echoed behind us.

"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes." She advised without looking towards me or turning her gaze in any direction aside from directly facing her. I was not entirely sure of the meaning of her cautions, but I drew my hand towards my brow nevertheless and continued to follow her downwards. "The level of your eyes." I echoed wearily. My eyesight moved to rest upon the mysterious woman, but I could read nothing from her eyes that I could not hear in her voice or see from her movements. As quickly as she had begun moving with me down this path, she halted, her body stopping in a controlled, fashioned manner. The point seemed nondescript enough to cause me to wonder what her reason was for not going any further. The look in her eyes told of some unseen barrier or trap yet to be sprung.

"This is as far as I dare go." She stated simply, with only a measure of fear in her voice. I nodded my agreement and thanks to her, taking on her cautious observance of the floor beneath me and column surrounding. Though I knew that something lurked for me and, indeed, anyone who dared to penetrate the Phantom's lair, my bravado lurched forward with me and I left Madame Giry behind. Stepping quickly down the staircase, I pulled at my jacket and threw the cumbersome fabric off of my shoulders, along with a restricting over shirt. No need for civility in heroism.

No longer under the helpful watch and knowing glance of my guide, I moved with a certain restraint in my body. For everything that my knowledge consisted of, I could be continuing down this path for another twenty yards or two seconds. An increasingly sick feeling grew in the pit of my stomach and something pulled at me to glance over the edge of the thick banister. The twisting darkness drew down into an unrecognizable black pit, which seemed no more encouraging then where I currently stood. The place bore a strange resemblance to a deep well and I felt as if the mere spectacle pulled me down, moving towards the drowning force of dark waters. Adrenaline coursed through my limbs and I gave up the idea of a plan of attack for the simplicity of speed.

Lurking in the midst of the blackness before me somewhere were the Phantom and Christine. An overwhelming feeling of how large the situation was around me froze every muscle in my body for several moments. In the dark reaches of my mind I softly heard Christine's voice and saw the look on her face minutes before he had taken her. "Anywhere you go, let me go too." Anywhere. I had promised her an escape from darkness and had allowed her to be swallowed by the true definition of evil. I told her that I would be her light and shelter, yet I had let her hand slip from mine. Resolve hardened further and I shakily stepped forward. Pulling my hand up slowly, I continued to move into the dark unknown that Christine was trapped in. Hand at the level of my eyes. There was no other option but that of soldiering on.

I stepped down heavily on one of the few stair platforms that I had seen and at once felt every nerve in my body fly upwards, away from me. Before I could begin to distinguish the nature of the sensation, I was surrounded in murky waters and a whitish-green light shown high above my head. Panic had little to no time to set into my mind and I pushed up above the waters, scanning for a way of escape. Thoughts became increasingly difficult to put into any kind of order as I fought for control of my mind. My senses were assailed by the only recent feeling of falling, a damp heaviness and the sound of heavy metal chains moving above. Glancing up quickly, I saw a menacing lattice lowering cautiously towards the surface of the water and the clarity of the subterfuge in which I was caught became apparent. Panicked, I turned from side to side, searching for something that would stop the descent of the grid. I took a swift breath and dove down into the clouded depths of the water. My eyes could not focus on anything well, but I swam towards the only plausible looking escape.

I grasped a small metal wheel attached to the wall of the pool and tried to push it into a position that would reverse the movement of the lattice. Despite the adrenaline that was constantly being supplied to me, a heavy fatigue began to flow into my arms and the weight of the wheel was almost too much. With one last grasp at a plan I pushed to the surface and took in as large of a breath as I could before the water was broken. I knew that while there are many ways to leave this world, dying a used pawn of the Phantom was not going to be mine. Not now.

The well-rusted piece of metal stuck stubbornly in its position, not allowing much movement in either direction. I could feel a choking burning in my lungs, like breathing in smoke, as the air supply that I had hastily gathered was almost entirely used up. This may have well been a last effort, I thought, but I would not give up trying. The smooth wheel began to budge beneath my hands and I pushed it with all that I had left, praying that it would not be the last movement I would make. A rattling sound reverberated throughout the water-filled chamber and I saw the lattice begin to ascend back to its rightful place. A faint, blurry darkness began to assail the edges of my vision as I pushed towards the surface of the water. Grabbing a ladder with fatigued hands, I pulled upward onto a flat surface and stumbled on into the darkness.

From that point on, the trek was not nearly as difficult. Although ink black and dank, I felt through the passages with my hands, following the gentle twists and turns that the passage made. I knew nothing of where I was or how close Christine was to me. Simply put, the only thought that was left of my bedraggled and torn senses was to find her and take her away. Away from the Opera, from the Phantom. Away from this hell. I fell swiftly in the darkness, tumbling down what could only be felt as a steep set of stairs. The flavor of dank water filled my mouth as I hit stone with a hard impact on my left arm and head. Colors filled my vision in the midst of the black, and I knew that I was near unconsciousness. With a small grunt of pain I stood to my feet and pushed against the wound on my arm that was once again bleeding. Fatigue threatened to take over and bruised tissue made itself known all along my legs and back.

I held myself up against a slick, algae covered wall and slid along, wading through water that was well up to my knees. My hands felt along in front of me, continuing the assurance that would be something ahead to walk towards. I slapped my arm forward and felt the contact of the stone on my elbow, but oddly my hand only swung purposelessly through the air. Moving cautiously to the opposite side of the path, I felt the wall and as my hand slid forward, it too only found blank space. In the darkness I did not have any notion of what was sitting before me and I let my foot explore the ground of the corridor, only to find that there was no more floor to be found. With only a moment's thought of what was there, I stepped into the pit and sunk slowly into more dark water. My right leg hit something solid, and I stood on the base of the cavern, turning to see a light several feet above my head. It did not take long before I was crawling into the dim light of another flat, vast room, lit mildly with candles. The sound of a horse echoed raggedly in front of me and I followed it towards an even larger chamber. Now that I could see the way, it was clear where I needed to go and that the Phantom was close by.

I ran down a slope consisting entirely of flattened steps and jumped into another large pool of water, this time banked by a dry stone area. Once it became feasible, I jumped onto the pathway and ran until the stone met once again with water. Silently I wondered if the entire place was flooded with the murky, green liquid. I flung myself back into the cool fluid and waded forward towards the haunted sound of Christine's voice. My legs froze as I felt something brush against them and looking down, I saw a large fish swim idly by. I had stopped moving now, and an eerie silence echoed, through which I could hear far too much. Every hair stood on end at what I heard Christine say.

"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood? Am I now to be pray to your lust for flesh?" Another voice followed closely after hers in response and I waded forward vigorously.

"This face which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh." Millions of unwelcome and terrifying images lapped into my mind and panic almost completely took over. "…pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate, an eternity of this before your eyes."

I stopped suddenly as the two forms of Christine and the Phantom arose before me, surrounded in lavish fabrics, shining gold and flickering candles. Christine was clad in a soft white, flowing gown and her voice flew above the darkness surrounding her.

"This haunted face holds no horror for me now, its in your soul that the true distortion lies." Finally, there was Christine, standing pure and clean in a chamber full of elegant gaudiness. Her beauty sat enthroned by things far less stunning, and I unknowingly took in air at the sight of her. At that moment I wished nothing more than for Christine to be in my arms once again, safe from the evil bombarding her. But as I drew closer to the iron lattice separating us, I could do nothing but stand mesmerized at the picture before me.

Another man's voice broke my reverie and Christine turned in surprise, her eyes filling with hope. "Wait, I think my dear, we have a guest. Sir, this is indeed, an unparalleled delight. I had rather hoped that you would come and now my wish comes true, you have truly made my night." His armed looped around Christine's waist and pulled her harshly. I could softly hear her voice telling him to let go of her and I would have torn through the metal in front of me right then if it would have been physically possible.

"Free her! Do what you like, only free her! Have you no pity?" I shouted loudly, wanting just the sound of my voice to threaten his hold on her.

"Your lover makes a passionately plea."

"Please, Raoul, it's useless."

"I love her, does that mean nothing? I love her. Show some compassion." I felt anything but strong and heroic standing only feet away from saving Christine, yet unable to do anything but watch.

"The world showed no compassion to me."

"Christine, Christine. Let me see her!" My voice rang out loudly, commanding more than the courage that I could muster.

"Be my guest sir." The Phantom's voice sounded calm and level compared to mine. Anger welled up at the simple fact that he seemed infinitely more in control and it took all my strength to keep my body under the guise of civility. A dark feeling rose from the pit of my stomach as the disfigured man walked towards me and I knew that the worst of the battle was yet to be fought.

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Ta Da! Sorry for the suspense…uh…hopefully I'll write more soon. ducks away from fruits and vegetables being thrown at her 


	4. All for Nothing

-1A/N: It's been quite a while, I know. Please don't hurt me, I come in peace and bring a new chapter. Actually it's been senior year and lots of homework and all that jazz so, many of you probably empathize. Thank you to all of the people who hopped on the bandwagon after the last chapter, I really did appreciate your reviews and remarks. I hope you enjoy and, as always, feel free to leave comments of any kind. I apologize for any well…mediocreness on my part...I'm a little rusty. Oh yeah, and I've actually visited Paris and drooled over the Opera House since I last wrote, so that should cause some positive things.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to _The Phantom of the Opera_, either the book or the movie, and only use the characters and songs through the good graces and ambivalence of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux. Please don't hurt me, I'm not doing any harm.

Soft metal dronings filled the air and added to an already ripe feeling of suspense in the ominous cavern. Like the instant before a flame hits a fuse, the three of us awaited whatever hand fate would deal in the coming moments. Christine and I stood helpless, pawns of an unseen game, as the lattice rose and scattered murky water around me.

I quickly scanned her slight and frightened form for any evidence of foul play. She seemed fine, a little disheveled and frightened, but I could see no obvious marks of the man's cruelty and my nerves settled more in response. However, after seeing what this "Phantom" could do, my suspicions were in no way pacified or calmed. If he had so much as touched her with certain intentions or imperiled her for one moment… A quick pain from the cut in my shoulder served to calm me and interrupt the inciting emotions. I detained my rage and pervading thoughts, letting them lie until a moment arrived when they would be useful, and placed my gaze back on him.

Restraining every muscle and nerve, I held what little ground I could call my own. Adrenaline coursed through synapse after synapse as the one man I truly despised advanced on me, a glib expression on his face. Sarcasm poured through his words and hung heavily in the dank air, hardly offering any tangible proof of assurance.

"Monsieur, I bid you welcome! Did you think that I would harm her?" His words and gestures displaying any feeling but that of guilt and shame, the man spoke with an accusing tone. He prodded and provoked me to his challenge, to fight in a game in which I did not know the rules.

Both of us now knee deep in the cold water, equally indentured, we stood almost eye to eye for the second time. The first time, in the familiar environment of broad daylight, I should have stabbed the blade through his chest and finished it while I had the chance. Now I was at the mercy of an unfathomable mind and could hardly defend myself well in an alien setting.

Without my blade or any realistic hope of success, I stood with far less to reassure me and infinitely more to lose. I allowed my thoughts to meander back several months.

Freshly fallen snow made the cemetery grounds slick and strangely eerie; more so than any aura of death could bring. Without conscious thought or plan, I charged towards the masked tyrant and drew my weapon. At first, every move was defensive as I struggled to keep my feet under me and retain my position. I had not been prepared for the passion and hate that he would throw at me…and now, standing in the depths of the Opera Populaire, I still was not.

"Why would I make her pay for the sins which are yours?"

I stared with intensity into the eyes of the man that had caused only suffering to Christine and myself, and saw nothing there but fiery, calculating hate. I silently wondered how a person such as this could have a single feeling towards anyone, even that of lust; he hardly ever moved in a way that was not measured to produce the greatest destruction.

Turning a psychological examination onto myself, I began to prepare for the worst; clenching and relaxing muscles that screamed because of inaction. By this time, I felt as if every part of me was on fire; a sensation wasting away at my patience and control. Through gritted teeth and balled fists, I determined not to let my guard down anywhere near the terrible creature. Every sense became heightened and alert in the presence of this predator, and I could see Christine only lengths away looking on in fear. I resolved that I would not allow any force, no matter how potent or volatile, to stand in the way of freeing her. Fate had allowed us this much, and I would not let it go easily.

A resounding clank echoed behind me and my overanxious nerves caused me to take my eyes from the Phantom's for only a fraction of a second. I turned to see the lattice secure only inches from my back and felt a sudden, hard blow across my throat as a rope slung around me and pulled brutally. As I turned in a struggle to break free, the rope slid down to my arms, enclosing them in an inescapable way. My upper-hand became forfeited as I was pushed up against the wall of metal, pain exploding in waves along my skull and back.

"Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hands to the level of your eyes!"

In mere moments, I stood helplessly tied to the lattice, and despairing dread fell over me. Mock and derision spewed from the face in front of me, taunting the power I had held and surrendered over his life that day in the cemetery. I should have brutally killed him while I had the chance. Now…I was left to the powers at be.

"Nothing can save you now--except perhaps Christine…" He turned his attention away from me, and began pacing towards her. I struggled hard against ropes that I knew would not budge for the wishes of one lowly man. Helplessly I stood and awaited…

"Start a new life with me--buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me and you send your lover to his death! _This _is the choice--_this _is the point of no return!"

Though I was physically powerless, I was in no way conquered. Intense fury welled up within me… I was nearly certain that Christine would acquiesce to his demands, and I could not bear to bring a life of grotesque horror upon the woman I loved. Yet, despite all of this, I could do no more than stand and pray for death. Macabre though my wish was, it was infinitely better than the alternative. Now the fuse had been lit, and only silent suspense accompanied the encounter. Christine's lyric voice sounded, a blaring contrast to the dire consequences at hand.

"The tears I might have shed for your dark fate grow cold, and turn to tears of hate…"

The Phantom moved resolutely away, unaffected by his protégé's show of disdain. Fire was blazing its way along the untouched fuse, and I knew that I could only hope to convince Christine of which decision should be made before it was too late. Somewhere deeper than the logic in my brain, I knew that she would never make that choice. She would rather die first. And if I let her stay with him, she would.

"Christine, forgive me, please forgive me…I did it all for you and all for nothing…"

Christine paid no attention to my pleas and held her gaze on the man worthy of her venom, speaking only to him. Something in me broke to see the pain in her eyes, knowing that I could never again take it away or quell the tears now falling freely.

"Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend…one by one I've watched illusions shattered…"

Fear showed openly in all of her actions as the Phantom began to carry out his threats. Christine stood paralyzed, unable to stop the inevitable.

"Say you love him and my life is over!"

"No point in fighting--" The emphasizing point of these words was produced as I felt the noose of the Phantom's rope, and the import of the situation, slip around my neck and begin to tighten.

"Either way you choose, he has to win--_you cannot win!_" The noose grew ever tighter around me as the Phantom stopped and spoke the thought that all three of us knew to be exact; we could not win.

Desperate is not a strong enough word to describe the atmosphere at that moment, nor fear large enough to encompass the pain I felt at asking Christine to end my life. Both, however, were inescapable and neither, no matter their strength, could alter the path of fate.

"So, do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave?"

"Why make her lie to you to save me?", I embitteredly spat at the man holding the break of my neck at the flick of his wrist. Only part of me knew that I was willingly welling up his anger and asking for my own demise. Voices raised in confusion and heightened by the brink of choice, swirled in a cacophony of sound.

"Angel of Music, why this torment?"

"For pity's sake, Christine, say no!"

"Past the point of no return--the final threshold…"

"Don't throw your life away for my sake!"

"When will you see reason…?"

"His life is now the prize which you must earn!"

Despondency, desolation, self-pity, and pain crashed like waves in a storm, leaving no member of the cavern untouched and beating me the hardest.

"I fought so hard to free you…" My own voice emerged in a hardly audible sigh, intended for Christine's ears, and yet destined to fall at my own feet. Strength that had once urged me to fight on now fled and left only enough purpose to keep me standing.

"Angel of Music, you deceived me--I gave you my mind blindly." At that moment, I wished for nothing more than the ropes to break by some divine intervention and allow Christine one more moment in my arms, the Phantom only a distant memory. To once again be standing high above Paris, the world, and every possibility it offered, at our feet.

"You try my patience--make your choice!" A sharp tug on the noose clutching my neck brought me back to the reality, impacting my throat and allowing a gag to get the better of me. Obviously, this man would not trifle with indecision and would not allow any more time to slip through his fingers. Slowly, I watched the flame of the situation travel closer and closer to a sudden explosion and knew that the end of my life could not be far. Christine looked towards me with soft, strengthening eyes and mouthed a word too slight for me to catch. She then turned her gaze towards the mutilated being in front of her, as if a decision had been made.

"Pitiful creature of darkness…what kind of life have you known…?" Grace and tenderness met in her aspect as she waded forward towards him, slowly grinding my heart with each step.

"God give me courage to show you, you are not alone…" Peacefully, she slipped a ring onto her finger and sunk closer towards the man who was killing me even now. Unsure of what would happen, I was unable to keep my eyes from the scene and could no sooner wrench my heart from it, than will a better fate into being. With sureness of purpose and a loving gaze Christine wrapped her arm around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The moment was so silent, so inevitable; my heart stopped for an instant. Sparkling in the dim cavern light, wrapped around the man's neck, I could see Christine's engagement ring._ My_ engagement ring. Suddenly, the wrenching in my heart stopped. It did not hurt, it did not anger, it did not sicken. Simply put, I did not feel anything. Water drops fell into the larger dark green mass, my heart continued beating, and Christine did not pull away.

I watched as she took her lips from his and stared into his eyes. Those eyes in which I had only seen malice and hatred; did she now view something entirely different? With a breath of confidence, she moved towards his wondering form once more and kissed him passionately: deeper and stronger than the last. A stab of something large and unbearable hit me then, and I had to look away.

I closed my eyes, which now felt gritty and hot. The picture of the two of them remained etched in my brain, however. Staring at the tableau Christine had created, a surge of strength hit every piece of my body; Christine had given up everything for me willingly. The lonely and struggling future, no matter how long it would be, was nowhere near my heart at that moment. I could only love her deeply. My eyes re-opened when the sound of many voices hit me, and I struggled to turn my confined head to find the source. Instead, I heard words which held much more weight.

"Take her--forget me--forget all of this… leave me alone--forget all you've seen…go now--don't let them find you!" Christine rushed towards me and began to fumble at the restraints holding me to the lattice, allowing me a breath of free air as she slipped the noose off of my neck.

"Take the boat, swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in hell. Go now! Go now and leave me!" He screamed in anguish, as I held Christine with all the strength I could muster. Wrapping my arm around her waist, we waded through the water to a small boat hidden in a dark corner, water lapping quietly around it's hull. The sound of footsteps mixed with a sad tune, long covered by the dust of several months, filled the halls of the cavern and Christine stopped dead in her tracks.

Looking down into her eyes with confusion, I quietly asked, "What is it?" Christine merely looked back towards the echoes of slow music in return, and squeezed my hand. As she began to move back towards the Phantom, anxiety got the better of me and I grasped her arm to stop her. Turning calmly back to me, she merely whispered, "Trust me, Raoul." and I acquiesced.

No sound but small footfalls to the cavern and back could be heard. I did not even know if she saw him again. I only knew that when Christine returned and wrapped her arms around me, she no longer had the ring on her finger. Shoving off from the small landing, I stood with Christine next to me as we made our way back to the reassurance of the outside world. Only the slight movement of hair against my shoulder let me know that she had allowed herself one last look at the life she had almost been bound to. A strong, despairing voice sounded as she turned her head to look up at me.

"It's over now, the music of the night…"

The crash of shattered glass was the last sound that we ever heard from that cavern. And the last sound that I ever hoped to hear come between us. As we hit solid stone and I led Christine up onto the street, I pulled her tightly into my arms.

"Anywhere you go, let me go to."

The only response was a reassuring embrace, as she buried her face in my shirt.

Wow. Well, I hope that that was thoroughly enjoyed. I REALLY liked writing that last one, and I hope that does not mean that it was crap to everyone else.

The Libretto was my savior for this chapter. Whew!

This chapter is dedicated to Nathan. Why? Who knows. Okay, well, it's because you were my Phantom for Halloween. Thanks. ; D


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